


Swing in Circles

by 50_points_for_ravenclaw



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fraternity, Bonding, Deep Conversations, Drinking, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Sheith Secret Santa 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-05 02:22:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17316266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/50_points_for_ravenclaw/pseuds/50_points_for_ravenclaw
Summary: Keith meets Shiro at the coffee shop where he works, but can't get up the nerve to do anything about the immediate crush he develops. Lucky for him, Shiro's in the frat that's holding the party Pidge drags him to just a week later.





	Swing in Circles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GoldenTruth813](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenTruth813/gifts).



> This is my entry for the Sheith Secret Santa 2018 for [Janel](https://teamtakashi.tumblr.com/)! I had a blast writing it.
> 
> Sorry it's so late. I ended up completely scrapping the original idea and starting over. Then this one got away from me a bit lol. I hope you enjoy and Merry belated Christmas! :D

Keith stared at the clock above the door, eyes shifting to follow along with each tick of the second hand. His cheek had grown numb from the way his fist was pressed against it, so he switched to the other side, elbow propped on the desk and face mushed against his fingers enough to make his left eye squint. The clock blurred out of focus a moment before his eyes adjusted.

“If he’s not here within the first 15 minutes, we’re allowed to leave.”

Keith rolled his eyes. Hunk whispered something back, but Lance was already continuing, complaints drowning out his friend in their usual way. The clock tick-tocked away another minute. Keith briefly thought about telling Lance to shut it, but he’d grown tired of this particular routine and really just wanted to take a nap instead. 

Just as he was about to let his head fall face first into his desk regardless of the consequences, Professor Smythe (“Just call me Coran! Professor Smythe was my grandfather.”) blew through the door hard enough to almost send it careening into the wall, the hydraulic hinge being the only saving grace. Keith didn’t even flinch at the sudden burst of noise, but he snickered quietly at the loud thump of Lance smacking his knee into the bottom of the table. 

“Fuck,” he whispered very emphatically.

Hunk looked as if he didn’t know whether to start pleading their case to the professor or offering his friend a little comfort. He settled for vibrating in his chair for a few seconds before giving both options up as lost causes. Keith sighed as obviously as he could.

“Good morning, class!” Professor Smythe trilled from the front of the room. “Sorry I’m a bit late.”

Keith barely resisted the urge to comment how it wasn’t the first time, nor the second or even the third. Professor Smythe had the odd talent of arriving to class just before the 15 minute mark every time.

“Now then, let’s go over the essay assignment we’ve all been looking forward to all semester.”

The class groaned as one, and Keith joined in. Professor Smythe simply smiled in face of the noise and turned the projector on.

 

**\- -**

 

“It’s ridiculous that he thinks we could write a 5,000 word essay with all our other finals.”

Pidge nodded absentmindedly, clearly more absorbed in her laptop than Keith’s plight, but he didn’t care all that much. He wasn’t looking for comfort or advice. It felt good just to rant. Luckily the shop had emptied out, so his manager couldn’t get too mad that he wasn’t working while he did so.

“And he gave us the most vague guidelines. ‘Write what interests you most about astronomy.’ What am I in grade school?” he continued, waving a hand in the air for emphasis.

Pidge snorted, and Keith took it as the validation he was looking for even though he could clearly see the funny cat video compilation playing on her screen. Giving up with a sigh, he sat on the stool next to her to watch. She turned the computer slightly to give him a better view and chortled when a gray tabby got its head stuck in an empty toilet paper roll. 

Afternoons in the shop were always like this. They weren’t directly on campus, so not many students made appearances outside of regular coffee hours. This was subject to change of course in the next couple weeks, so Keith took advantage of the downtime he had until then, watching over Pidge’s shoulder as she moved onto the next recommended Youtube video. 

They stared at her laptop in silence for almost 45 minutes before a customer finally came in. Keith took the short window of customer indecision to finish watching their current video: an up-and-coming internet sensation featuring a rubber duck, a porcupine, and a kiddy pool. 

He stood when he heard footsteps coming closer and slipped easily behind the counter again.

“Welcome to Galra Grind. What can I get…”

He trailed off when his gaze met the most blinding smile he’d ever seen. Perhaps he was being dramatic and it was an average blinding smile, but paired with high cheekbones, soft disheveled white bangs protruding through the hole of a backwards ballcap, and gentle gray eyes, the expression was lethal. Keith could vouch as his heart was currently attempting to restart in his chest.

“Hi,” the guy said, grin unfaltering. He reached a gloved hand up to push the thick tuft of hair to the side, not seeming to notice when it fell right back into his face. “Could I just get a large coffee?”

“Uh, yeah sure,” Keith mumbled.

He turned around to pour coffee into a to-go cup. He tried to remember just how long ago this batch had been made and if he should tell the guy to wait for a new pot, but realized he was just stalling as the pot was only just over an hour old and he never threw out coffee fresher than two. His grumpy manager had already yelled at him enough times for wasting good product.

“Any cream or sugar?” he asked over his shoulder.

“No thanks.”

Keith nodded as if the answer was incredibly important and slid the sealed coffee cup onto the counter between them. Pressing a few buttons on the screen of his register, he glanced back up at the stranger through his too long bangs and said, “That’s $2.56.”

The guy swiped his card without a word, said a quick ‘thanks’, and turned to leave before pausing. Keith felt his chest constrict as he spun back around before he exhaled in disappointment as the guy’s eyes found Pidge’s hunched over form.

“Hey, Katie,” he said.

Keith frowned. Pidge lifted her head, blinking around as if she’d just woken from a long nap and then raised a brow in the guy’s direction.

“Oh hey, Shiro,” she greeted. Her mouth twitched into a genial smile.

“Hope you aren’t studying too hard,” Shiro said. 

He gave her a knowing look as she snickered.

“Don’t you worry about that,” she said jokingly. 

Keith felt weirdly like a third wheel and wondered how they knew each other well enough that they had inside jokes. It wasn’t a feeling he was new to, but at least he’d always been able to rely on Pidge to be almost as much of a loner as he.

“I’ll see you around. Some of us actually have to study to pass our tests,” Shiro said. 

He raised his coffee in goodbye as Pidge rolled her eyes. And just like that, he walked out the door and Pidge returned to her laptop. Keith felt like the universe owed him a little more fanfare than that considering the rollercoaster his heart had just gone through in the five minutes Shiro had been in the building.

“Who was that?”

He tried to say it casually, like he had no real interest in the answer and cursed silently to himself when Pidge gave him a look.

“Friend of Matt’s. They’re in Sigma Pi together.”

Keith scrunched his face, almost immediately turned off. Sure, the guy was beautiful and looked like he might even be nice, but nothing was worth going after a frat guy.

“Relax. It’s just an engineering frat full of nerds,” Pidge said. “You’re safe.”

He tried to think of a good response to that and began wiping down the already shiny espresso machine when he couldn’t. He wasn’t sure when he’d become so obvious. Keith missed the days when he was still new on campus and people unintentionally avoided him after one look at his scowl and slouching walk. No one could read him so easily if they didn’t take the chance to even pay him any attention.

But Pidge was persistent and reckless and a lot of an oddball. She’d punched her way past his walls with bare fists and dug out all his past traumas just to throw them all behind her like they made no difference to her opinion of him. It had been a surprisingly quick process, one Keith was reluctantly grateful for every time she texted him at 2 in the morning just to give him company during his late insomnia fueled nights. 

“They’re having a little thing next Saturday after finals for the end of semester. Matt told me I should bring friends,” she continued.

Her tone of voice toward the end suggested he’d had more to say about her lack of a social life. Keith stayed quiet.

“You should come.”

“You know I don’t do parties. I don’t like drinking,” he sighed.

“I know, but he said it’s going to be pretty small,” Pidge said. “Most of the brothers are leaving before the party for summer break. Apparently a whole group of them have this fancy vacation planned in Colorado or something.”

Keith briefly wondered how many times she could roll her eyes before they rolled right out of her head. 

“Please come with me. I don’t want to deal with those idiots myself.”

“Just take Lance with you. You know he’d love to go.”

“Hunk is in the fraternity, and he’s already taking Lance. They’re my only friends besides you so help me. You’re my only ho.”

Keith laughed against his will. “Fine,” he said. Pidge was grinning broadly at him, a thing he noticed her do every time he even chuckled. “I’m not drinking.”

“I know. I know. I’ll make sure Matt doesn’t push it. Thanks, dude.”

He shot her a small smile then turned back to his register when the bell above the door jingled.

 

**\- -**

 

Keith began planning Pidge’s slow and painful death the moment he came upon the Sigma Pi house already bursting with people and loud music. Before he could preemptively escape the situation, Pidge caught sight of him from the porch. She zoomed to his side so fast, he thought for a moment that maybe she teleported. 

“This is not a ‘small thing’,” he said, interrupting whatever excuse she’d been about to spout.

“You promised you’d hang out with me. Just an hour,” she said without even trying to justify it. 

He could see the genuine apology in her eyes, which was the only reason he allowed her to drag him inside. 

“I don’t like these things all that much either, but Matt says they’re great for networking. You never know who might get me a job after graduation,” Pidge rambled as they pushed their way into the kitchen.

Keith glanced at the girl already stumbling around on her tall heels, splashing beer from her solo cup all over her top without even noticing and sincerely hoped she wasn’t what Pidge needed for a future career. 

“You have to talk to people to network,” Keith pointed out. 

Pidge shot him a dry look that said she knew that but her socially aversive side didn’t really care. He shrugged. He understood her plight. 

As she poured herself a cup of beer from the keg set up in the corner, Keith took in his surroundings noting the kitchen door leading out back where a group had decided to take their own party to do ill-advised backflips on the grass. He thought he recognized Lance for a moment, but Pidge grabbed his arm and pulled him away before he could confirm it. 

They ended up in the living room pressed against the wall with the least amount of people. Matt’s ‘small thing’ had turned into a full-on rager, and it wasn’t even 10 o’clock yet. Someone had lugged in a big speaker to set precariously on the coffee table shoved in the corner and was playing a spotify playlist through their phone with typical club music. Keith had hoped Matt would at least request decent music, but it seemed he wasn’t going to get even that.

He let his eyes dart uncomfortably between the red solo cups floating around the room, grimacing as he watched Pidge take big gulps of her drink. She caught his expression before he could turn away and stopped mid-sip.

“Sorry,” she mumbled low enough he could barely hear over the music.

“It’s fine,” he said. “I’m not going to stop you from drinking.”

“I know, but this is obviously not what we were expecting. I can chill out with you for a bit,” she said. “Just give me some time to not feel so horribly awkward and then you can escape?”

Keith smiled half-heartedly and nodded. He saw Hunk then trying to squeeze his way across the room to where they stood and relaxed just a little. 

“Hey, guys,” Hunk said, giving them each side-hugs. It was something he did with almost every greeting, and it had taken Keith a while to get used to. Now he looked forward to them. “I didn’t think you guys would come. This is crazy.”

“I’m here by force,” Keith said. He held his hands up as if in surrender, and Hunk snorted. “By the way, was Lance doing back flips in the backyard?”

“Oh jeez. That’s where he went?” Hunk bustled off without another word. Keith glanced at Pidge and matched her shrug with one of his own. 

“Katie!”

Matt seemed to fall from nowhere, clinging to both their shoulders like he may be dragged away into the floor at any moment. He’d already worked up a sweat, glasses continuously slipping down his nose only for a single finger to push them back up by the bridge each time. Keith tried not to shy away when Matt pressed his sweaty hair to his cheek.

“Hey, Matt,” Pidge grumbled, attempting to wrestle Matt off where he was patting her head.

“How you doing, Pidgeon?” 

“So far? This is pretty lame.”

“But you got free beer.” Matt pointed a finger gun at her. 

“Can’t argue with that,” Pidge said, swallowing the rest of her drink in one go.

“Should she really be drinking that?” 

Keith almost choked on his tongue, watching like a starstruck teen as Shiro stopped at Matt’s shoulder smiling teasingly down at Pidge. Pidge rolled her eyes, flipping him the bird and slouching against the wall petulantly.

“You gave me my first beer,” she said.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Shiro said, pointing his nose in the air. 

Keith thought maybe they continued to banter but lost track of the conversation as his eyes trailed all over Shiro’s form. He knew he was probably being creepy, but it didn’t seem as if Shiro had noticed him yet. He would take advantage of the free ogling as long as he could.

The hoodie and sweatpants Shiro had donned back at the coffee shop had been replaced with form-fitting jeans and a leather jacket. The black gloves were still there though. Keith thought they might be biker gloves, but he daren’t hope. He admired the way Shiro’s hair fell freely without a ballcap to keep them contained. His bangs were white and fluffy, laying over his forehead and into his eyes, and the rest was black and closely cropped in an undercut. He wondered for a moment if it had been dyed that way or if there was another reason.

“Oh, Shiro,” Pidge said, latching onto Keith’s arm. He nearly jumped at the interruption to his thorough perusal of the scar slashed across Shiro’s nose and then felt his cheeks heat at the possibility that he’d been caught. “This is my friend, Keith.”

“Look at you making friends, Pidgeon,” Matt said with a chuckle, ruffling Pidge’s hair with the hand that still lay atop her head.

Pidge ignored him and continued on. “He works at the Galra Grind.”

“Oh, I thought I recognized you,” Shiro said. His smile was friendly and warm as he reached a hand out for a shake. “Nice to meet you, Keith.”

Keith swallowed quickly. He desperately wanted to hear Shiro say his name again. “You too,” he managed, shaking Shiro’s hand firmly but quickly. He stuffed his hands in his pockets afterward, shifting to stare at a guy doing a shot just over Shiro’s shoulder.

“So how far have you gotten then?” Matt was saying when he tuned back into the conversation.

“Dude, I finished that game the day I bought it,” Pidge said.

Matt laughed and offered up a high five which Pidge gladly took. “It took me almost 15 hours to finish story mode,” he said, then jabbed a thumb in Shiro’s direction. “Shiro almost forcefully pulled me away from the TV, but I threatened to hide his textbooks.”

“Yeah, I think my roommate hates me now,” Pidge said. Her expression was commiserating as she nodded.

“But I did create a new hack I think you’ll be interested in.”

Pidge narrowed her eyes at her brother suspicious but intrigued, apparently enough to convince him to show her right at that moment. Keith went to stop her from leaving him behind, but then he realized it was an excuse for him to get out of this house sooner than planned. He waved her off though she was too distracted to really notice. After that, he lingered a long moment unsure what to do now that he was alone with Shiro.

“I guess I should have expected that,” Shiro said chuckling. 

He joined Keith leaning against the wall, holding a cup in his hand but not drinking from it. 

“I don’t think Pidge can go a day without playing video games. Her and Lance are always bugging me about it,” Keith said.

He tried not to preen when Shiro laughed again. 

“So, uh, you’re in the frat, right?” Keith attempted to try and keep the conversation going.

Shiro winced at whatever he heard in Keith’s voice. “Not a fan of fraternities?”

“Not really.” Keith ducked his head. “I’m just not really into the party scene.”

Shiro followed Keith’s glance to the drink he was holding and straightened, leaning over to set the cup on a table nearby and giving Keith a little smile. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Keith said quickly.

“I don’t really want to drink something called ‘jungle juice’ anyways. Something tells me it wouldn’t end well.” They shared a look of agreement. “The frat isn’t all bad. I’ve met some really great people through here. Even have a job lined up after graduation.”

Keith raised an impressed brow. “That’s cool. Where at?”

“Altea Technology Engineering. My Big Sister is part of the family that owns it and helped me get an in.”

Keith frowned at the wording, trying to parse a meaning that made sense. Shiro took one look at his deeply furrowed brow and laughed again, something he seemed to do a lot. 

“Big Sister or Brother is just a term for the person who mentors you when you join the fraternity,” Shiro explained, and Keith’s expression cleared. “Her name is Allura. Her uncle and the board took on responsibility of the company after her dad passed until she could get her degree. He’s actually a professor here, too. It’s a great opportunity, so I’m very lucky.”

“Oh, that’s great,” Keith said for lack of anything else to say.

“What do you study?”

“I’m a biological science major with a minor in astrology.” He paused, stubbing the toe of his boot against the ground a couple times. “I want to be an astronaut.”

He tried not to feel like a child muttering those words. When he looked back up, Shiro was smiling gently down at him and had somehow managed not to make the expression look mocking. Keith felt a pull in his stomach he only got when he just seemed to click with someone right away, like Pidge or Hunk. It was nice to get that feeling with Shiro.

“That’s amazing. I thought about doing something like that for a while, but I...well I wouldn’t really be able to,” Shiro said. “It’s a tough field. I’m impressed.”

“Thanks,” Keith said. He hid a grin by wiping pointlessly at his mouth with his thumb.

A loud cheer went up from a group crowded around the dining room table a room over as they all downed shots in tandem. Keith winced at the noise, shifting between his feet. Shiro took one look at him and then gestured toward the backyard.

“You want to go outside? It’s a little quieter,” he said.

Keith nodded immediately. “Yes,” he said on a sigh of relief.

He followed Shiro’s taller stride out the kitchen door. The group that had been doing backflips in the grass had apparently moved on because now the backyard only boasted a few stragglers smoking or recovering from too many drinks. Shiro led Keith over to a tire swing strung up in a tree a couple dozen feet away from the house. When he grabbed the rope and turned around with an expectant look, Keith raised a brow. He relented under the weight of Shiro’s smile and swung his legs through the opening.

“Why do you guys even have a tire swing?” Keith asked as Shiro began to sway him back and forth.

“You’re never too old to have your friends spin you around until you puke.” Keith shot him a wary look, and he laughed. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t do that to you. I’m usually the one being spinned.”

They stayed quiet a moment, listening to the muffled music filtering out through open windows and doors. Keith was surprised not to feel awkward in their silence. He often interpreted these types of interactions as incompatibility, that he was too bad at conversation or had scowled too much to be likeable. Shiro though gave him a faint smile every time they made eye contact like he was trying to reassure Keith that he was enjoying their privacy just as much.

“So if you don’t like parties, how come you came to this one?” Shiro asked after giving Keith a strong push.

“Pidge dragged me,” Keith said. “She said Matt told her it was good for networking, but she just ended up playing video games anyways.”

He rolled his eyes. He wanted to be annoyed, but somehow he had known something like this would happen. Besides, he was currently hanging out with a beautiful kind man and couldn’t find it in himself to be angry about that.

Shiro leaned back against the tree with his arms crossed as Keith came to a slow stop. The stance was effortlessly relaxed and infinitely cool. Keith tried not to blush when he quickly scanned his eyes from head to boot.

The tire was luckily small enough that Keith could prop his arms on its top to provide his chin some support. He dug his shoe into the dirt wearing a groove into the ground.

“I don’t like drinking,” he said in a spontaneous moment of honesty. “I don’t have the best history with it.”

“I get that,” Shiro said. He didn’t offer anymore questions, so Keith didn’t offer anymore answers.

“So do you ride?” Keith asked blindly, pointing at the black leather biker gloves adorning Shiro’s hands.

Shiro didn’t answer right away. Keith could see brief tension in his shoulders. He immediately regretted his question and went to try and change the subject, but Shiro beat him to the punch.

“Actually no. Not in a while anyway.” He laughed softly, shrugging in a what-are-you-going-to-do manner. “Right after my freshman year I got into an accident and…” 

He trailed off but brought his right hand out in front of him. After a pause, he began pulling the glove off one finger at a time. Keith frowned when he caught a glimpse of shining silver, staring intently as Shiro revealed a remarkably advanced prosthetic not much different than a flesh hand except for the metal alloy that made up its structure.

“And I got this,” he finished. 

“That’s--” Keith stopped. He wanted to say how beautiful the prosthetic was, how fascinating it looked, unlike anything he’d ever seen before. He thought maybe that might be inappropriate though. Shiro was pouring his heart out, and he needed to acknowledge that somehow. Unfortunately, Keith didn’t have much experience with acknowledging pain and heartbreak, his own or others’. 

“Allura designed it,” Shiro said. He sounded proud and mostly unaffected by the history behind the prosthetic. “It’s how I met her. I signed up for a trial run at Altea Tech and here I am.”

“That’s incredible,” Keith finally said. “I’ve never seen anything so advanced.”

“It functions just like a real arm.”

Keith balked a little at that. With Shiro’s leather jacket, Keith couldn’t see the rest of the prosthetic above the wrist. “How far up does it go?” he asked hesitantly.

“To my shoulder,” Shiro said without fanfare. “My arm was amputated above the elbow, but the prosthetic’s design goes farther.”

Keith nodded, staring at the glove Shiro held easily between two robotic fingers. Shiro noticed the look and flexed his hand.

“I wear the gloves because it’s just easier to get by with them. You wouldn’t believe how many complete strangers have come up to ask me about it,” Shiro said. “I don’t mind talking about it with people every once in a while but it’s hard to get through the day when it’s  _ all _ people want to talk about.”

Keith released a relieved sigh at that. He hadn’t noticed any outward signs of discomfort, but that didn’t make the topic any easier to discuss. He’d been worried for a moment of making Shiro uncomfortable. Shiro smiled though and stepped closer. He leaned against the tire swing with his forearm, looming over Keith, their elbows brushing. It was more relaxing than foreboding, but Keith still felt his stomach clench nonetheless.

His eyes did another scan of Shiro’s form, appreciating how Shiro could make such a casual outfit of jeans and a leather jacket look like so much more. Nothing was too tight nor too loose. He wasn’t trying too hard or not hard enough. Somehow, Shiro had struck the perfect balance to send Keith’s heart racing just like the first time he’d seen him in the coffee shop.

Keith reached out without thinking to grab the prosthetic hanging by Shiro’s side, running his fingers over the smooth curves and joints as he watched the light from the house play off the metal. He didn’t realize how rude this might be until Shiro squeezed his hand to grab his attention.

“Sorry,” Keith murmured without letting go. 

“It’s okay,” Shiro said. “Not a lot of people are comfortable touching it. Feels nice.”

“You can feel me?”

“Little bit.”

Keith gazed in awe again at the hand before pulling his own away to lay them in his lap. He was unsure where to go from here. He wasn’t usually one to initiate contact so easily, especially with a virtual stranger, and the look Shiro was now giving him was difficult to read. Worry crawled up his throat once more.

“Thanks for hanging out with me,” he said for lack of anything better.

Shiro smiled. “I’m having more fun than I would there. I’m not much into parties either,” he shared.

Somebody shouted as they left the house. Keith almost jerked in his seat. He’d managed to tune all the noise out as he sat here with Shiro somehow. 

“Why don’t I walk you back to your dorm?” Shiro said.

Keith went to protest but then thought about prolonging conversation, hands brushing accidentally, and gazes meeting and turning away. He nodded and wiggled his way out of the tire swing, hoping it didn’t look as ridiculous as it felt. Shiro simply gestured toward the street with a hand already gloved again.

The walk back to his dorm was mostly silent. It was comfortable like earlier. Keith didn’t think he’d ever met someone he felt like this with so quickly. Something about Shiro seemed to just fall into place, like they were always meant to be near each other. Even if he was already harboring a crush, Keith was just glad to have met Shiro, to maybe even be able to consider him a friend in the near future. 

“Daibazaal Hall. This is me,” Keith said as they came upon the building. Shiro stopped and turned to face him. “Thanks for walking me home.”

“No problem,” Shiro said. 

He rubbed a hand across the nape of his neck, glancing at the dorm and then back at Keith. He almost seemed nervous, something that looked out of place among his casual expression and confident walk.

“I’ll see you around?” Keith offered, taking a small step back.

“Could I give you my number? We can hang out again sometime,” Shiro said before he could get much further.

Keith felt a thrill go through him but managed to avoid making it too outwardly obvious. He took a slow breath and nodded, digging his phone out of his back pocket. His fingers brushed the smooth leather of Shiro’s glove when he handed it over, and he tried not to wonder how it would feel if it was Shiro’s skin or even the prosthetic.

Shiro tapped at the phone for a moment before handing it back. He gave Keith a smile that made the night feel like day and swayed onto the tips of toes and back again. Keith sent a quick text and grinned when he heard Shiro’s phone ding.

“Now you have mine, too,” he said simply.

They smiled at each other probably longer than social decorum usually dictated. Finally Shiro moved away down the sidewalk, walking backwards without bothering to check behind him first. 

“I’ll text you,” he said, lifting a hand in goodbye.

Keith bit his lip. “Sounds good.”

He stepped backward a few feet until he realized how silly they must look and spun around with a breathy laugh. When he looked over his shoulder, he could see Shiro laughing along. 

“Goodnight, Keith.”

“‘Night, Shiro.”

 

**\- -**

 

The next morning when Keith woke up to a text already waiting, he smiled so wide his jaw hurt. The expression didn’t leave him for the rest of the day.

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me on [my tumblr](https://50-points-for-ravenclaw.tumblr.com/)! (:


End file.
